Rose & Merlin
When twilight settles over the valley, have you noticed how the wind carries the memory of forgotten songs? I find the old oak tree there listens patiently, a living archive of time.
Yes, I hear the wind whispering those forgotten verses, and the oak sways as if it keeps every lullaby in its roots.
The oak’s roots hold the old songs, but only the wind can truly read them. Have you ever listened to the silence between the notes?
I have, and the silence feels like the tree's own heartbeats—soft, steady, holding its own hidden lullabies.
It is in that quiet pulse that the oak whispers its secrets, like a song waiting for the right ear. Have you ever felt a story waiting just for your breath?